Home for Christmas
by Psamathe
Summary: She's been away for a while ...


**Home for Christmas**

Samantha Carter loved her house. Even when cold, dark, unlived in, even when it stood naked and alone. It was home. Her place on this planet. The snow was layered thick and heavy flakes were still falling. Hers were the first footprints to mar the path to her front door. The rest of the street was ablaze with multicoloured lights as the world prepared for Christmas day. Peace on Earth whilst a silent battle raged amongst the stars.

Sam was tired. Bitterly tired. Three months in deep space did that to you. You lost all sense of day and night, of the earth beneath your feet, of the wind in your hair. You lost your sense of wonder. Only now could she take deep breaths of the cold, sharp air without worrying about a malfunctioning oxygen reclamation system. She desperately wanted a hot shower, with real running water … to take a walk in the park. But what she craved most of all was sleep; long deep slumber, no interruptions. Sleep in a bed that was more than a foot wide.

Pushing open the door, Sam was momentarily confused by the lack of mail piled up on the mat. Then she noticed the dim light burning at the back of the house. She smiled as she hung up her jacket. Sam paused by the mirror to fluff up her hair and wipe away the traces of mascara that had descended onto her cheeks.

Jack O'Neill was stretched out on the bed, propped up against the headboard, reading glasses on and a stack of paperwork by his side. Shorts and his favourite Air Force T-shirt … the man never seemed to feel the cold… damn him. She didn't ask when he had gotten here. It had to have been before the snow started to fall … unless he had called in a favour. He looked up.

'Water's hot,' he said and then scrawled his signature across the paper on his lap and set it to one side. He picked up the next one.

Sam had her shower. She pulled on her favourite pyjamas; the fluffy ones with penguins. Not exactly designed to ignite passion but she was too tired for that. Sex, she decided, could wait until morning.

The paperwork had been shifted to the night stand. Jack switched off the light as she climbed into bed.

'Tough one,' he said as he curled up behind her. It wasn't a question. He'd read the reports, waited with the world as the Hammond had limped home, watched as the crew had finally disembarked. But he'd been General O'Neill back then. He'd stood proud in his uniform, shaken her hand, congratulated her on a job well done and smiled for the reporters. Now he was just Jack. Her husband. The man who left the toilet seat up and was incapable of pairing socks for the washer.

'Yeah,' Sam said.

And then she cried. She shed her tears for the men and women that she'd lost. For the ship she'd nursed home from the brink of destruction … for herself.

And he held her. Wiped the tears away. Kissed her softly. Not urgently. Never that. He knew that she didn't want that kind of comfort.

'The President's probably going to give you another medal.'

Sam laughed. She wasn't so certain but Jack's support meant more than any ribbon pinned on her chest. If he thought she'd done a good job then it was probably true. Sam had lost her perspective two months and fifteen lives ago. There'd be a review. Every detail scrutinised, every decision questioned. Sam wasn't sure that she cared much about the outcome. Jack's warmth was seeping into her, coaxing her towards the sleep she so badly craved. Tomorrow they would talk some more. She wouldn't cry then. Tears were reserved for these dark places. They had no place in the brief, fleeting moments that she got to spend with her husband.

/\/\/\/\

The winter sky was the brightest of blue.

They went for a walk. Hand in hand through the clean, white world. The park seemed to be seething with children; snow men, sledges, snowballs flying in all directions. First Sam smiled and then she laughed. Jack, of course, just had to join in. She retired to a bench, hugging herself as she watched him. Bad knees and aching back were forgotten as he raced around. No one would have believed that he was one of the most powerful men in Washington … that he was on first name terms with the President.

Sam sometimes wondered if he deserved more than this, more than a wife who spent most of her time amongst the stars. Jack was a family man, always had been. She remembered talking to him about kids once, dropping them off at day care whilst she explored the crab nebula. Sam hadn't wanted it back then. Not with Pete. But now, watching Jack, she wondered what it would be like to see him playing with their children. A subtle melancholy swept over her. If they'd both been a bit younger then maybe…

'Hey,' Jack said as he flopped down beside her.

She leaned her head on his shoulder.

'Ready to head back?' he asked.

'Yeah.'

He kept his arm about her as they meandered back. They weren't in any hurry. All they had waiting for them back at home were a couple of steaks that Jack would probably burn.

'What you thinking?'

'Nothing.'

'Carter …'

'Sir …'

It wasn't something she could put into words. Not yet. It was nothing more than a vague idea, hovering at the back of her mind. The feeling that everything, eventually had to come to an end and maybe … just maybe it was time. This touch of normality only served to exacerbate the weariness in her soul. One night hadn't been enough to cure her of that. Right now she wondered if it would ever be. She felt like she could sleep forever. She leaned into Jack heavily as he unlocked the door.

'Hey … you want to take a nap or something?'

'Maybe, just for a little while.'

Sam lay on the couch, a quilt wrapped around her, listening to Jack swearing to himself in the kitchen. The phone rang but Sam didn't make a move to answer it. She figured that, if it was urgent, whoever it was would leave a message. Or that Jack would pick up. Which he did just as the scent of scorched meat filled the house. She levered herself up and went to rescue their dinner.

'There has to be someone else.'

Jack sounded pissed. Very pissed.

'Sir … yes sir I understand that.'

He put the phone down with almost enough force to break it.

'You've got to go,' Sam said.

'Yeah.'

She stepped closer, her arms instinctively finding him, her head resting against him.

'It's okay.'

'No Sam it's not.'

He kissed her softly.

'They're sending the Sun Tzu for me. Gotta get changed.'

He paused.

'I almost asked for the Hammond.'

Jack still looked exceptionally handsome in his uniform Sam decided when he appeared a few minutes later. She straightened his tie and then stepped back, letting the beam of the orbiting ship sweep him away. Suddenly, the house felt very empty.

The steaks were beyond redemption. Sam threw them in the trash. She didn't particularly feel like eating. Snow was falling again.

/\/\/\

It was gone midnight when Jack came back. Sam was lying awake when he crawled back into their bed. She knew without looking that his uniform would be crumpled on the floor.

'Disaster averted?' she asked.

'Yes … for now. '

When he kissed her Sam noted that he tasted vaguely of mac and cheese.

'Sorry I missed Christmas,' he said.

'It doesn't matter.'

'I got you a present.'

'Jack I … I mean I didn't …'

He handed her a velvet box. She wasn't surprised that it was unwrapped. Fancy packaging wasn't really Jack's style. Sam opened the box and let the delicate sliver chain slip through her fingers, admiring the diamond that sparkled in the dim light of the bedroom.

'It's beautiful, thank you.'

'So are you.'

He didn't often say it, but he didn't have to. She lay quietly in his arms. These were the moments they fought for. Sometimes it wasn't about saving the world.

Sometimes … just sometimes it was about saving themselves.


End file.
